Yvonne
by Misslemike
Summary: The background story of my OC Yvonne. Read to find out more about my character. Rated T to be safe. PM me if you want to borrow my character, I'll send over an information sheet with much more detail. Please R&R, I appreciate the feedback. [HUMAN FORM]


**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Happy Tree Friends, only my OCs: Vritra**

The background story for my OC Yvonne. Read this if you want to try and understand more of the character's history.

* * *

"**But in the end one needs more courage to live than to kill himself."****-****Albert Camus**

I will never lose these scars. They have become a part of me, a part of the god forsaken memories I wish I could forget. Those memories that reminded me every day how much misfortune I had, how much I had suffered over the years, how suicide would be the better option. Yet I resisted the urge to end my life, and carried on with my life, all for one person. He was the reason this girl who had been beaten upon, caged and left to rot, was still alive. I had to find him again, my only salvation. The one I longed for, the one I yearned to feel the touch of again. My life had been in tatters once, but he had pulled me back onto my feet and set me straight. So I inherited the family business, and now I'm the head of Tyree Industries, world leader in weapons manufacturing. I was glad actually. Being the Head of Tyree Industries meant I was only one step behind him, all the time. He was the most dangerous person to have ever come into contact with this planet, and I was the second.

I'm the daughter of Aidan and Skye Tyree, the previous Heads of Tyree Industries. Life was happy and dandy, until I turned 12, when the war began. My parents said that we were better off than many of the other cities and towns; no-one would attack Tyree Industries, it was suicide to even try! So I had continued on with my life, prancing around the city, enjoying life as always. Oh dad, how wrong you were. A few months after I turned 14, almost a year after the Tiger General who ruled the lower parts of America was assassinated by soldiers, I was kidnapped as I was walking down the street (for no discernible reason but to waste time). I remember those over size hands grabbing me from the shadows, the damp, chloroform soaked cloth placed over my nose, and the chuckling of laughter as I slowly blacked out and fell limp in their arms.

By the time I woke up, I was sitting, tied to a chair. except the chair was bolted to the floor, and everything seemed to be moving. With my superior IQ of over 180, I easily deduced I was on a transport vehicle, heading to somewhere else, possibly to be contained until further notice. I had nothing to do until we arrived there, so I busied myself with studying what they had on board. The men who had kidnapped me had stacks of boxes near the back, all full of weaponry and alcohol. These men were obviously inexperience, or poorly trained, as when one came through the open doorway to check on my, he was cradling his STEYR AUG upside down to his stomach. Hell, I don't think they even know how to shoot those firearms, or they possibly too drunk to do so, seeing as they had 4 crates of the strong stuff in the back. I remember the drunk guard's breath drawing closer to me, the rank stench filling my nostrils as he peered at me closely. He chuckled and slammed the butt of the weapon into my face, knocking me out.

The second time I woke up, I had a throbbing headache, and it took me a while to realise that I wasn't in the vehicle anymore. I was caged up in a prisoner camp, although I seemed to be the only one there. I was chained to the wall, although I could still peek out and see what was happening outside. I looked at the sleeping guard stationed outside my cell, and realise the wore the tattered clothes of the (now defunct) Tiger Army, from Arizona. They used to be participating in the war, until some American soldiers from the north had come down and eliminated the Tiger General. My guess was that they used to be the soldiers on standby for the old Tiger Army, the conscripts who didn't get proper training or had gone out onto the frontlines even once, and were now trying to avenge their 'glorious leader' now that he was gone.

Soon after, after having studied the guard's uniform, he must've heard my chains rattling, because he woke up groggily and looked down to see my curious face peering back up at him. He got up shakily and tried to hold onto something as his hangover caught up with him. After standing by the doorframe, swaying for a little while, he walked out and called to his comrades. I heard him talking about how I was awake, and what they should do with me. Suddenly the voices were hushed, and all of my kidnappers came over to take a look at me. There were only about 5 of them in total, and they hardly seemed to know each other, seeing as how a lot of them were arguing with each other. Then one of them raised an idea. The others laughed at the thought and went out. I was dreading what was going to happen next. One of the guards from earlier came back and held up a feral cat to my face. I instinctively scrambled back against the wall, which earned a sneer from some of the guards. They unbolted the cell door and plopped the cat down before fastening the door again. The cat growled at me and ran towards me, scratching me across the eye. I closed my eyelids at the last second so that my eyeballs weren't damaged, but the pain was unbearable. To a sheltered soul like me, this was absolute hell.

It continued like that for days. They brought in whips and knives, each day torturing me. I still remember the stinging of my flesh as the whips came into contact with it, the blood flowing profusely from my wounds, and myself fainting from blood loss almost every day, only to wake up the next realising I had just gotten a blood transfusion. These sadistic guards weren't going to let me, their only form of entertainment and their bargaining chip in whatever scheme they had brewing, die that easily. Then as suddenly as it started, it ended.

On the fifth day that I was here, it happened. The guards had woken up, given me the gross slop they gave me every day in the morning to eat, and went onto their patrol duty. They weren't going to torture me until later. Then it happened. I couldn't see what was going on, but I heard gunfire, and shouts for a guard named 'Joey' to turn his gun around. Shortly after, another shout ran out as 'Joey' shot himself, I guessed. These guards really were incompetent. After another minute or so the gunfire and screaming stopped. I guessed it was over. I cowered in fear as the door to the hostage holding area opened, expecting the worst. Instead, a man wearing the American army uniform with the rank of Sergeant First Class who couldn't possibly be all that much older than me, entered. He ran over to me and opened my cage, before seeing all the scars and knife wounds I had suffered. A look of pity crossed his eyes, and he leaned in to hug me. It was the first real act of compassion I had experienced since the week had started, and I started crying. He comforted me as best as he could, and he carried me like a princess back to the extraction chopper. He was my knight in shining armour, the 'Romeo' to my 'Juliet', the 'hero' to my 'heroine'. It was then, as I was crying into his army fatigues in the chopper, that I realised that just maybe, I had fallen in love with this man.

I was soon back in England were my parents were waiting for me. I was glad that I was able to be back with loved ones again. However, that didn't last long, as my reign of misfortune continued. They were brutally murdered while testing an experimental weapon Tyree Industries was researching names the Supercharged Ion Cannon (SIC). I remember attending their funeral, bawling my eyes out, as my life truly became devoid of people who cared for me and who I cared for. I was seriously contemplating suicide at that point, but something held me back. The memory of the man who had rescued me from that damned prisoner camp. SO I took up the reins as the new Head of Tyree industries, and, although I was still young, started overseeing and working as the new Head. After digging around a bit, I found out that the man who had saved me was Vritra, a prodigy in the American army. I couldn't find space between my work at the time to see him, so I waited until I was 20, when I finally started to get all my employees' trust in me, before deciding to take a day off and leave all my work to my secretary. It was then that it had happened. I heard that Vritra was almost killed in an artillery barrage in the war, and was in critical condition. It was then that I panicked. I remember running back to HQ and questioning the researchers if there was anything we could possibly do to save him. They replied that Tyree was currently developing experimental nanotechnology that could save him, so I lent the technology to the American army. Turns out Vritra was the only test subject to survive, so they had just returned the technology afterwards, seeing as they had no use for it and it was costing a fortune to implant into each soldier.

Life after that was never the same. Vritra had gone AWOL and become a hired assassin, the best hired gun you could get your hands on, actually. My employees said that my infatuation with him was dangerous and unhealthy, but I still kept trying to find out where he was. Every time I heard he went to a new country, I would excuse myself from work, call a vacation and search for him. I only succeeded once in finding him, while he was in Norway. I remember confronting him and telling him how I felt about him. He seemed genuinely shocked. We came to an agreement that since his jobs usually occurred in America, I would move my main company HQ there, so we could be closer together.

My name is Yvonne. I'm in love with the most dangerous person alive.


End file.
